What do you mean I carry a baby IN MY VERY OWN BODY for 40 weeks, monitoring every move it makes and how it’s body is developing—along with watching my body change in ways I never imagined —and then I actually give birth to a little (or not-so-little) human being? A living, breathing, moving, crying, pooping, peeing, eating, smiling human being. And then, without even questioning it, I willingly and joyfully give up other pursuits to care for this baby day by day and night by night. I love them. I live for their smiles and laughter. I teach them how to walk, how to read, think, play, make friends. I introduce them to Jesus and how much He loves them. I send them to camps and piano lessons, cheer for their made-up dances, encourage their interests, and listen to their hurts.
Then, they move away—hours and states away for internships turn residencies and maybe a job? And maybe I get to see them every few months.
I miss them.
I always knew they were meant to leave. I just never knew how much of my heart would go with them.
{Post inspired by this photo I keep tucked in my Bible}
{but let me add these so no one feels left out}
